From Manhattan with Revenge (The Fourth Book in the Fifth Avenue Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

room.
    “Can I help you?” he asked.
    She put a finger to her lips, removed the
Glock from her coat pocket and pointed it at him. “Maybe,” she said. “Let’s
find out.”

 
 
 
 
    CHAPTER FIVE

 
    She motioned for him to come inside the
room. For a moment, he didn’t move. Then he took a long look at that gun and
decided that he better.
    Carmen stepped back to minimize the chance
of being seen by others. “Back here,” she said. “With me.”
    He moved closer.
    “If you cooperate, I won’t kill you. If
you do something stupid, I’ll take everyone out.” She nodded at the butcher
knife. “Put it down.”
    He hesitated, but then did as he was told.
He put it down on one of the empty carts next to him.
    She looked beyond him into the kitchen. It
was only a matter of time before someone walked over and spotted them.
    Move.
    “I need a jacket like yours,” she said.
“Not clean. Filthy. And I’ll need a hat. Can you find something that will fit
me?”
    “No.”
    “Why?”
    “There’s a laundry chute in the locker
room. At the end of our shifts, we drop our whites into it.”
    “Then step into the elevator. I’ll have to
use what you’re wearing.”
    Here, just off the kitchen, a key wasn’t
necessary to open the elevator doors, so she pressed a button. The doors beside
her slid open. She cocked her head toward the empty elevator and he stepped
inside. She put her foot in front of the right door to block them from closing
while keeping her gun trained on him.
    He took off his chef’s hat, then started
to unbutton his jacket, which went just above his knees. “It’s too large for
you,” he said.
    “I’m not going for couture.”
    That stopped him and he looked at her with
new eyes. For him, humor was unexpected in a situation such as this, but then
he didn’t know Carmen or how she viewed the world.
    She started to twist her hair into a
chignon, which was difficult considering she was holding a loaded gun. Still,
she’d done it before and she did it now. It wasn’t exactly as neat as her
mother taught her when Carmen was a teen in Spain, but in this situation, it
would do.
    He handed her the jacket, which had the
coppery scent of blood on it. “I assume you want the hat?” he asked.
    “I do.”
    He gave it to her.
    “Step back,” she said.
    He did and she slipped into the jacket. It
was huge on her, but she didn’t plan on being seen in it for long. With the gun
in her hand, she struggled with the buttons while also keeping an eye on him.
    “Why are you doing this?” he asked.
    “Don’t talk.”
    “It’s a simple question.”
    If she told him, it might keep him quiet
for another minute, which is all she needed. “There are people here who want to
kill me. I need a disguise that will get me out of here. This is as good as it
gets.”
    “Who wants to kill you?”
    “Does it matter?”
    She put the hat on top of her head, but it
was too big. The bonus? It was made of paper. She took it off, folded a section
in the back, and ran her bloody sleeve inside the crease. She pressed down and
held it for a minute to make sure it would stick. It did, but for how long?
Blood was like glue, especially when it started to congeal. She felt it might
work, but who knew? There was no certainty in situations such as this. Gently,
she put the hat back on her head and this time, it fit.
    “I might be able to help you,” he said.
    “I had a similar offer tonight. Didn’t
work out.”
    “Look, if someone here is trying to kill
you—”
    She stepped forward and swung her gun at
him in an arc that was so swift, it connected the butt of her gun against the
side of his temple before he knew what hit him.
    She could have killed him, but she didn’t
want to. Unlike Jon, he’d done nothing to betray her. He’d be able to identify
her, but so would the hotel’s security cameras, which were worse because of the
hard evidence they offered. She hadn’t seen any cameras, but that meant
nothing.